


Not Stanford

by Underlander413



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: But not enough Wirt to put it in OTGW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underlander413/pseuds/Underlander413
Summary: His memories of him may have been fuzzy, but Shermie had the oddest feeling there was something different about Stanford.





	Not Stanford

It had been almost a decade since Shermie Pines had seen his older brother Ford, and his parents had decided to send the eleven year old up to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to spend a few weeks of summer with his brother. Of course, the young boy knew that this was mostly his mom's idea, judging by the fact that her last word to him before he got on the plane were to have fun, and his father's were instructions to tell Ford to send money. 

When he got off of the plane, he found a man waiting for him. "Are you Shermie?" The man asked. 

"That's me. You're Ford?" Shermie asked. 

The man cringed for a moment, but quickly recovered and said, "Yeah, but could ya call me Stan?" 

Shermie shrugged. "I don't see why not," he said. 

"Great! It's nice to see you again, kid," Stan said, extending his hand. Shermie took it, and while the shake only lasted a second, something about it felt strange, but he brushed it off as Stan started walking and followed him. 

*** 

It had been about week since Shermie first came to Gravity Falls, and he had adjusted to the "Murder Hut" well enough. It was a lot like his father's pawnshop, except it smelled less like sweat. 

"So has a murder ever happened here?" Shermie asked at breakfast. 

"Nope. As I like to say, the only crimes here are the prices!" Stan told him. 

Shermie raised an eyebrow. "Who's the victim, you or the customers?" 

"Unimportant!" Stan exclaimed, finishing off his breakfast. 

"Well if no murder has actually happened here, is it really a Murder Hut? Because I don't even think it's a hut. Wouldn't it be more of a Mystery Shack?" Shermie asked. 

"Huh, that's pretty clever, kid," Stan said, placing a few bucks on the table. "Well, whatever the name is, I need to get it ready to open for the day. You go explore the town." 

"Alright," Shermie said, picking up the money and walking to the door. 

"Try not to die!" Stan yelled before Shermie shut the front door. 

***

A few hours later, Shermie was walking around when he bumped into someone and fell down. 

"Sorry, kid, wasn't lookin where I was goin," he hears, and he looks up to see a tall, thin man dusting himself off. The man holds out a hand, and Shermie pulls himself up. 

"Name's Fiddleford McGucket. Haven't seen you 'round here before. You new, or did I just forget?" The man says. 

"Yeah, I'm here visiting my brother. My name's Shermie," the young boy said. 

"Shermie... Pines?" Fiddleford asked. 

"Yeah, that's me," Shermie said. 

The man seemed anxious all of a sudden. "I-I should go. Sorry, but I've got something to do," he said. He then hurried off, mumbling something that sounded like, "I should a forgotten him by now." 

*** 

A few nights later, Shermie was lying in bed, thinking. Stan had done a lot of strange things in the last few days. He normally wouldn't have thought too much of it, but there had been something on his mind ever since his mom had told him that he was going to go to Oregon to visit his brother. No matter how much his father insisted that Shermie only had one brother, he was sure, because of what his mom had managed to slip to him as well as some of his earliest memories, that he had not one, but two older brothers. He didn't remember what had happened to the middle brother of the family, but when he asked Stan, he told him that he had died a few months back. Shermie, however, didn't believe this. It just didn't add up. There was something Stan wasn't telling him. 

Shermie closed his eyes, trying to uncover his memories of Stan. The last time he had seen him before a bit over a week ago, Shermie was very young. He was only two or three years old, but he could remember a bit. A memory surfaced of his brother holding him as a baby, but something was off. He couldn't tell what, but there was something different about him. Shermie concentrated as hard as he could, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Sighing, he gave up, and drifted off to sleep. 

***

It had been four years since his visit to Gravity Falls, and Shermie was now fifteen years old. He had a girlfriend, and due to a bit of a slip-up on their part, he also had a son. His brother had come to see his nephew on the day he was born, and the two stood in the hospital as Shermie's girlfriend cradled the newborn. 

"He's real cute," Stan said. 

"Yeah. He is," Shermie agreed. 

"So what's his name?" 

"Wirt." 

"Wirt?" Stan repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Is that even a name?" 

Shermie shrugged. "I didn't come up with it, but it is now," he said. 

A few more moments passed in silence before Shermie spoke up again. "What did our brother think of me when I was born?" 

Stan said nothing at first, but then told him, "He thought you were adorable. He was pretty excited to have a younger brother, too." Stan looked at his watch. "I should probably go soon." 

"Are you sure you don't want to see mom first?" Shermie asked. 

"No, it's...it's probably best if I don't see her. For now, at least," Stan said. "Bye, kid." And with that, Stan left. 

*** 

It had been fifteen years since Wirt was born, and due to a similar slip-up, Shermie was now a grandpa. Stan stood by him, mirroring that day fifteen years ago, except instead of their mother, the one holding the newborns was Wirt, as his girlfriend took a much needed nap. 

"He and I were twins as well," Stan said. 

"You were?" Shermie asked. 

"Yeah." 

"You can hold them, if-if you want to, that is," Wirt said. 

"Yeah, sure. Bring those little munchkins over here," Stan replied. 

Wirt handed the babies to Stan. The girl, Mabel, reached up and squeezed Stan's nose, and the boy, Mason, followed suit after a few seconds. Stan whispered something that Shermie couldn't quite catch, but the last couple words were "Be friends." 

Stan handed the twins back. "Do you mind if I...stick around for a few days?" He asked. 

"Not at all! It would be a big help," Wirt said. 

"Thanks," Stan said, and once more, Shermie had a feeling that something wasn't quite right. 

*** 

It had been twelve years since his grandchildren were born, and Shermie was sitting at his kitchen table, having a snack, when his phone rang. 

"Hello?" He answered. 

"Hey dad," came Wirt's voice from the phone. "You know how the twins just got back from staying with Uncle Stan?" 

"Yes, why?" Shermie asked. 

"They just told me a story, and I think you should hear it too. Could you come over?" Wirt asked.

"Sure, I'll be right there," Shermie said, hanging up. Over the years, he had thought a lot about his brother, and as he walked down the street to his son's house, he had a feeling his suspicions were going to be confirmed.


End file.
